


it's why i still believe in miracles

by finalizer



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: First Kiss, Injured Poe, M/M, [SCREAMS] FEELINGS, post-TFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 09:59:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6606568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finalizer/pseuds/finalizer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn cracked a grin. “I didn’t think you would actually, literally swoon if I kissed you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's why i still believe in miracles

It happened somewhere around the time that Poe managed to maneuver his wreck of an X Wing safely to the ground.

 

A simple reconnaissance assignment, is what it was: in and out, planned for weeks in advance with every possible outcome taken into consideration _—_  save for the miniscule fact that the Order had their own spies planted amongst Resistance personnel and knew just how and when to compromise the mission.

Long story short, the Resistance hadn’t anticipated a counterattack.

And Finn had listened, standing around the console with flight command, to the signal from Poe’s comm crackle and fade away. The radio silence had been suffocating, techs and engineers running about the control tower in a frenzy to regain the connection.

It’d made him feel pretty useless, his inability to do more than watch in silent horror as minutes sailed past and no one was any closer to reestablishing radio contact. The uncertainty did it, in the end: made Finn realize that there was little in the world that would break him more than Poe failing to return from the mission. And that he cared, a whole lot more than he’d been willing to admit.

The hurt spread, with every hour that passed without a single scrap of news.

 

It was an all-consuming relief that he felt when Black One, charred and mangled beyond belief, lowered to the ground in the center of the landing strip. The viewports, splintered and shattered, had somehow survived the jump to and from hyperspace, as well as the atmospheric descent onto the planet. It was beyond miraculous, to say the least.

Engineers immediately rushed towards the ship and Finn knew that he needed to give them space, no matter how desperately he wanted to run after them, to make sure Poe was okay, make sure he had made it back in one piece.

BB-8 was removed from its position first, rolling around somewhat dizzily along the concrete as an officer lead the droid to maintenance.

It took an achingly long amount of time to unseal the cockpit, the steel of the ship smashed and concaved in more places than one. The longer Finn looked at it, the more the X Wing looked like a warzone incarnate, and he couldn’t help but thank his lucky stars that it’d been the best pilot he knew flying the craft. He doubted anyone else would have made it out of the crossfire alive.

There was a jarring screech of metal as the hatch finally unlocked and the cabin entrance flew open. A med team was standing by, jittery and anxious _—_  whatever state they’d been told Poe was in couldn’t have been good.

Finn realized he’d taken a few steps forward, completely subconsciously, internally driven to move closer. The small crowd that’d formed around the wreckage was ushered away by officers and medics alike. They didn’t want a spectacle. Something was wrong _—_  Finn felt his heart drop.

Concerned chattering rose up from the team that’d clambered atop the X Wing to evacuate Poe from the ship before it collapsed, or blew to bits, or did something equally unsavory.

The troubled voices grew louder and Finn could no longer stop his legs from carrying him across the airfield and to the scene of the commotion. He was too preoccupied to notice that none of the personnel bothered to shoo him away _—_  even if he’d noticed he wouldn’t have read too deep into it, anyway.

“Careful _—_  ” someone said. Their voice was tinged with unbridled distress.

Finn started to doubt his actions leading up to this point. He should have stayed at the opposite far end of the field _—_  better yet, locked himself in his quarters and patiently waited for news, instead of butting into it all so directly. He didn’t think he wanted to see the state Poe was in, especially if it was even half as bad as it was made out to be.

The warnings continued. “You really shouldn’t _—_  ”

Finn took a small step back, then another, and was about to backtrack and scurry far, far way, when he heard a familiar tone.

“I’m fine, let me go.”

If he thought he’d known relief before, when all the X Wing did was land, Finn was sure he would throw up from the onslaught of emotion as Poe clambered out of the cockpit on his own two legs.

There was a gruesome cut along his hairline, from shattered glass or a volatile piece of debris that’d struck him in the attack. Blood cascaded down the side of his face and pooled onto the collar of his flight uniform, staining the bright fabric. He looked worse for wear, exhausted and pale, but he was conscious, he was _alive_.

He looked straight at Finn and his entire face lit up, as if the blood loss and possible internal injuries had been pushed back to a plane of secondary importance. Poe Dameron and his priorities: his own well-being was never key. He waved away the concerned medics who ran at him with rolls of gauze and antiseptic.

“Not bad, huh?” he asked, half-staggering to where Finn stood, frozen. Poe stuck a thumb out, motioning over his shoulder at the wreckage behind him. “So, my controls take a hit, right after the main engine does, and I can’t radio for backup because the system is fried. And the navigation, too _—_  entirely dysfunctional. Then the rearview shatters _—_  ” he pauses, bringing a shaky hand up to probe at his wound, “not so cool. I oughtta get that checked out. How are you?”

Finn found himself speechless.

“How am I? You’re _—_  you’re bleeding from your head.”

Poe looked down at his bloodied fingers as if he hadn’t noticed his predicament before.

“I’ll live,” he said. His tone was entirely too flippant for someone who’d just been through hell and back, navigating utterly alone through the black void of space for hours without a single radio signal to comm for help. He caught Finn staring and frowned. “What? What is it?”

In a split second decision, Finn decided to be straightforward on the matter. “I was worried. I thought _—_  I assumed the worst.”

Poe’s smile was warm and enticing. “Don’t you _ever_ doubt me, pal. I’m pretty good at this sort of thing. I’ve gotten my ass out of tougher problems without a scratch to show for it.”

Finn didn’t take the bait. He tilted his head toward the X Wing. “That’s not nothing. That’s more than one scratch _—_  it’s scrap metal. And you’re _—_  bleeding from your head,” he repeated lamely. He was having a hard time understanding how Poe could be so calm when he himself had spent hours upon hours choking back the worst case scenarios that’d wormed their way into his mind.

As if he’d read Finn’s thoughts, chaotic and racing as they were, Poe placed both his hands on Finn’s shoulders and looked him dead in the eye.

“I’m fine, Finn. Really. I’m sorry you had to worry.”

At some point, Finn’s hands had found their way to Poe’s waist, which he realized only when he tightened his grip on the material beneath his fingertips.

“I thought you were dead,” he muttered, letting his head droop down, escaping Poe’s eyes for a moment. “ _Again_. I keep seeing that wreckage, swallowed up by the sand, and every time I wake up terrified that you’re gone. And then I see your ship like this and I know this is something I can’t wake up from _—_  ”

“Hey,” Poe interrupted, urging Finn to look back up at him with his tone alone. “I’m right here. M’not going anywhere anytime soon. Except the medbay, maybe.”

Finn stayed silent for a few seconds, searching Poe’s face for any sign of insincerity. Needless to say, there wasn’t one.

“I overreacted,” he finally said. “I’m being pathetic.”

“No, you’re _—_  ”

“I just couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing you again.”

It was Poe’s turn to fall silent, his seemingly endless supply of bright smiles and witty remarks running dry as he stared at Finn’s solemn expression. There was something unnerving about it, in a way that made Poe want to surge forward and kiss him, comfort him, reassure him, make him realize once and for all that he wouldn’t leave his side as long as he could help it.

His deliberations were cut short when Finn did just that: tugged Poe forward with his fingers still wrapped in his flight suit, and crashed his lips against Poe’s. There was no finesse to it, just raw emotion, promises spilling out and sealing deep within.

Poe’s hands fluttered up from where they lay on Finn’s shoulders to cup his face, thumbs stroking across the hollows of his cheeks as he pressed himself closer. He was suddenly very, very grateful that he’d survived, that the whole mission hadn’t been for naught, and he’d made it back to base and was now being kissed by the only person in the universe who really mattered.

He gasped when they parted, at the lack of contact, as well as a sharp surge of pain to his temple. The latter could go ignored. The former, not so much.

“Stop almost dying on me, would you?” Finn asked. His tone was dead serious, however whimsical his words.

Poe laughed in disbelief and promised, “I’ll make a special effort to stay alive.”

A moment passed and, without warning, he swayed on his feet, a nauseating roll of dizziness nearly sweeping him to the ground. The adrenaline had worn off, no doubt, and the full extent of Poe’s injuries was catching up to him with an unsettling speed.

Finn caught him and helped him stay upright with a hand on either shoulder. Poe blinked and forced his eyes back open, thankful that he hadn’t ended up face planting in front of all the spectators that were no doubt openly watching them from various corners of the airfield.

Finn was saying something, and it took Poe another moment to clear the ringing in his head enough to hear it.

“ _—_  Poe? Hey, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I _—_  I should. Medbay.”

Finn cracked a grin. “I didn’t think you would actually, literally swoon if I kissed you.”

“Please, do shut up and take me to the damn medbay.”

“Yes, sir. Do you want me to carry you, or?”

He made a move to scoop Poe up into his arms, stopping only when Poe swatted weakly at his biceps. “Finn, I’m going to combust from shame.”

By this point, there was no doubt that there were numerous onlookers not so covertly watching their exchange.

“So, not bridal style?”

“Buddy, if you ever want to kiss me again, I suggest you most certainly do not carry me across the base like a baby. I have a reputation to uphold. Besides, I can walk _—_  ” Poe wormed his way out of Finn’s grasp and tripped over his own feet in a matter of seconds, “ _—_  sort of.”

Finn settled for a compromise and wrapped an arm around Poe to keep him upright as he took a few staggering steps forward. If he insisted on walking, he could go right ahead.

They were halfway across base when Finn piped up. “As if you could resist me if I kissed you again.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> oscar isaac says episode viii is doing things never before done in the franchise. sounds gay. i trust him


End file.
